He.

He was the frost that burnt her, he was the gravity that made her fly. He was her death, but nothing made her feel more alive.

Whenever someone asked her about what she saw in him, she would smile and look away. She knew, if she told them, they would fall in love with him too.

She not only fell in love with him, she fell and shattered. Her love was fierce and invincible. She gave every fibre of her being and the unseen soul to him, open raw.

She drowned in his ocean, and breathed his love alone.

But now, he’s gone, long gone.

She waits thinking she could see his reflection in her mirror again. She waits thinking she could wake up in the morning feeling his warm breath gently tickling her face again. She waits thinking she could hear his car’s honk before her front door as desperate as her heartbeats.

He was the sadness that made her smile, a pleasure that tortured. And She was the scream that never was heard.

Her scars were now only blemishes,

Her blood which ran stale, now was juvenile,

But it still  had the taste of her tears.

There is a place in her where his fingerprints still rest, his kisses still linger, where his whispers still echo. There is a place where a part of him will forever be a part of her.

He was still the reason she placed a semi colon instead of a full stop.

She wanted to meet him again, when they are slightly older and their minds less hectic. She wanted to be right for him, and he would be right for her. But right now, she was just a chaos to his thoughts and he ,poison to her heart.

I don’t really know what love is.

But all I know is that there are some smiles you never get tired of seeing, some hands you never want to let go of, some memories you never get bored recalling , some presences you can never get enough of, and some absences that hurt too much to ignore.

Believe in everything he feels,

His love is like the wind, breathe him in,

Let it take you away,

And give you life.

There are many kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice. There are some infinities that are longer than forever.

So was her love.

Their love could never be defined, because to define, is to limit.

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